


Good Things

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Plus-Size Reader, Reader-Insert, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-06-15 05:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15406365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Reader is a plus sized hunter who meets the boys on a hunt. Dean flirts with her, but she assumes that’s all it is until she meets up with them again at Asa Fox’s funeral. She doesn’t think he could really want her because of her weight, but Dean proves that’s not important to him.





	1. Kappas and Asa Fox's Funeral

You stood in the bunker kitchen, staring at your second burnt pie crust. You were certain, more than 100%, that you followed the recipe, but you couldn’t get it to come out right. You sighed, rolling out a third crust and putting it in. “Five minute increments. I’m gonna check on you.”   
  
You sat at the table, staring at the oven. You weren’t a baker. You were a fighter, a hunter from a long line of them, but today you were a baker. Today, you were going to present Dean Winchester with a pie and tell him you were ready to take a break from hunting. 

You were enamored with the eldest Winchester from the moment you laid eyes on him. You were awestruck by the rumors you heard about the Winchesters. You almost thought they were myths before they walked into your hunt. You were investigating some drownings that seemed a little bit wrong.

You walked out to the lake in the middle of the night, hoping to finally catch a break on Day 12 of your hunt. Instead, you caught two men standing on the shore with EMF meters. “I’m not getting any EMF.” Sam said.

“That’s ‘cause it’s not a ghost.” You spoke up as you stepped behind them. In a flash, you were staring down the barrels of two large semi-auto pistols. You put your hands up in a non-threatening manner. “I’ve been all over this lake with my meter. Different times of day, I even took a boat out. Nothing. Not a ghost.”

They dropped their weapons, tucking them into the waistbands of their jeans. They both smiled at you. “Hey, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to step on your toes. If we’d known someone was already on this hunt, we wouldn’t have-” Sam started.

You chuckled. “Honestly, I welcome the help. I’ve been on this for almost two weeks. I was starting to think I’d overreacted. I’m y/n.”

Sam offered his hand, which you shook. “I’m Sam, and this is my brother, Dean.”

You laughed, recognizing the names. They both were and weren’t what you were expecting. Physically, they were both tall, handsome, and intimidating, but they were also welcoming and warm, and you weren’t expecting that. “Well, I can just pack up now. I mean, you two got this.”

Dean smiled and shook his head. “Nah, this is your hunt. You’ve got two weeks on us. We’ll be happy to lend a hand.”

“So, no ghost. What do you think?” Sam asked.

“Well, I’ve seriously poured over all the monster manuals I’ve got and only one thing fits, but it’s kinda obscure and super far from home if it is what I think it is.”

“Sweetheart, we specialize in 'obscure’.” Dean said.

“Kappa.” You answered, earning you blank looks. “Japanese water-dwelling monster. Eats intestines… through the orifice closest to them.”

Dean blinked at you for a second before he nodded. “Okay. Leave it to Japan to have the sickest mermaids.”

“Well, if you’d ever seen any of their porn, it’d come as no surprise that their monsters are weirder than ours. You don’t wanna know where the tentacle obsession comes from.”

Sam snorted and covered his mouth with his hand as Dean glared at him. Dean’s neck turned pink in embarrassment. “So.” he started, pointedly. “How do we put down a kappa?”

“Just like any other fish, just gotta dry it out. Problem is: I can’t find it.”

“Well, you’ve got two more sets of eyes and ears now, so, don’t lose heart.” Dean winked and you bit your lip as you followed the brothers around the lake.

The three of you had the kappa in a net, gasping its last breaths, the next night. You burned the body and went for a celebratory drink. You were going to ask Dean back to your motel room after a few beers. Sure, he’s older than you, but the man is the personification of sex and he’d been flirting with you since you met and that was enough to push you past your self-conscious doubt. You might be fat, but you were good enough to be one of Dean Winchester’s one night stands. 

Your plan died when you went to use the bathroom and overheard him on the phone, telling someone about the scary deep connection he had with someone called 'Amara’. You left immediately, scribbling out a 'thank you’ on the back of a fast food receipt and slipping it under the windshield wiper of his Impala. You were ashamed that you’d thought a man like that might be interested in you. He was a flirt and you knew that before you met him. It was embarrassing that you’d let yourself get your hopes up.

~~~

You were over that embarrassment by the time you met up with them again, in Manitoba, Canada for Asa Fox’s wake. Elvis ran up to you as soon as you entered the house, bouncing excitedly like a hyperactive puppy. “You know who showed up? Sam and Dean motherfucking Winchester. They’re really here.”

“Well, did you ask Sam that thing about Lucifer?” You asked, patting him on the shoulder. You were sure Elvis had asked. He was completely without tact.

You entered the living room and smiled. It’d been a long time since you were around that many other hunters. Generally, that many hunters in one place devolved to fights and drunken arguments and, invariably, someone always mentioned that you were too fat to be a hunter. You usually tried to leave before that level of inebriation. 

“Hey.” Alicia Banes smiled up at you from her place on the couch.

“Hey.” You responded, as the room turned to acknowledge your presence.

Dean blinked at you. “y/n.”

“You knew Asa?” You asked, ignoring the thrill that went through you at the sound of your name on his lips. 

“Nope. He was a, uh, a friend of a friend.” Dean stepped in front of you. “You don’t have a beer. Let me grab you one.” He smiled as he walked out of the living room. 

“Wow! Dean Winchester knows your name and he’s catering to you.” Max marveled. 

“You must’ve done something special in bed if a womanizer like  _that_ remembers you.” Randy said.

“Yeah, she did something real special.” Sam chuckled, taking a drink of his beer. "She didn’t sleep with him.“

"It was a huge blow to the ego.” Dean confirmed, walking back in and handing you a beer in a dark bottle with no label on it. “I spend two days flirting and she doesn’t bite.”

You scoffed and took a drink. “Please. I’m sure nothing could touch your ego, Winchester. Damn, Bucky, your brew gets better every time I try it.”

“That’s a high compliment from the beer snob.” Bucky responded with a smirk.

“Oh, whatever. I am not a beer snob. I just won’t drink the hunter norm of, 'whatever is cheapest’.” You laughed, then flopped down on the couch.

“This woman once went on a rant about why any beer that encourages you to drink it cold is shit.” Alicia responded.

“Cold dulls flavors!” You sat forward. “If a beer company wants its flavors dulled, they obviously have bad flavors.” You reasoned.

As the night went on, you found yourself sitting in the kitchen alone. You were taking a break from the revels, instead focusing on your own mortality. “You know, it did upset me when you disappeared from the bar. You didn’t even say 'goodbye’.” Dean leaned against the fridge and looked down at you.

“I left a note.” You defended, quietly.

“Oh, yeah. On the back of a McDonald’s receipt. ’ _Thanks for the help with the kappa. Couldn’t have done it without you_ ’. It was poetry. I framed it and put it on my wall.” Dean sat down next to you and clicked his tongue. “I get you not wanting to be a notch on my belt, y/n, seriously, but that was cold.”

“Yeah. Well…” You shrugged. You did want to be a notch on his belt. “It wasn’t that. I didn’t think you were actually interested. Figured you were a flirt and that’s what you did, you flirted.”

“Yeah. I’m a flirt, but I  _was_ actually interested.” He took a drink and tapped his fingers against the bottle. “So, how’d you know Asa?” 

“He knew my dad. They did a poltergeist and a, uh, Jersey Devil together. When I took up the mantle, Asa gave me some unsolicited pointers… which have come in handy on almost every hunt I’ve ever been on.”

“Your dad was a hunter?” 

“And my grandpa and my great grandpa and my great great great great… you get the point.” You sighed. “I’m the first  _huntress_ in my family damn near since the Revolutionary War.” 

“Wow, you’re from a long line.” Dean nodded. “Technically, I am, too. Campbells.”

You scoffed. “The Campbells? You’re descendant from the Campbell family?”

“Yeah. My mom used to be Mary Campbell.” 

“I met a… Samuel Campbell and a Christian, I think. They were major assholes.”

“Yeah, that was my grandpa and my cousin. Yeah, they were assholes. Dead now.” He leaned back in his chair. “So, why are you the first female hunter in more than two centuries?” 

“Ah, that is y/l/n family tradition. Only one child from each branch of the family tree carries on the hunter legacy. Usually, the oldest son. It was something about making sure that only one kid would be sentenced to die young at the hands of evil. Keep the bloodline moving, I guess. My parents just had girls. 3 of us. I’m the eldest, so Dad trained me, reluctantly. Last y/l/n chick to fight the good fight was Mrs. Maria Reynolds, who had an affair with Alexander Hamilton, got pregnant, ran away from her abusive husband and changed her name to y/l/n and became an exorcist-for-hire.”

“Damn. You have  _some_ family history.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve got a pretty epic personal history, so…”

“So, your sisters, where are they in this? Living the normal-boring?”

“I assume. None of 'em have talked to me since Dad died. Only family that I’ve heard from is my cousin, Rick. Him and my great uncle use me for research on their hunts.”

“Ah, so you’ve got the hunter y/l/n side and the normal y/l/n side and never the two shall meet?”

You chuckled. “Yeah. Pretty much. They know we’re gonna die, so… as soon as we pick up the rock salt, we’re dead to them. Guess it cuts out some of the grieving.”

“And, what, before you die you’re supposed to pop out a couple kids and train one to hunt?”

“You gotta remember, every Hunter in my family has been male. Don’t really gotta be present for babies except the first night. My dad frequented a hunter bar, my mom was a bartender. They loved each other, but knew there was no shot at 'Happy Ever After’. He got her pregnant. When I came out a girl, he got her pregnant again and again, trying for a boy. Mom got her tubes tied while he was out on a hunt. Dad was so pissed.” You sighed and took a drink of your beer. “I guess, if I’m gonna carry on the tradition, I’ll have to take a break. Or, I could just let my branch of the tree die with me.” You finished with a shrug.

“Well, that’d be a shame. You’d make some cute kids.” Dean said, with a wink that made you shiver. 


	2. Dine... and Dash

You were lucky, when the demon started making its way through the wake, to be wearing a silver anti-possession amulet. Elvis, Alicia and Jody weren’t so lucky. 

At one point, you were searching the manor with Mary, the stunningly beautiful and  _young_ mother Winchester. “I saw how Dean was looking at you. His father used to look at me like that.” She said, quietly, not looking at you. She concentrated on clearing the room.

“Oh?” You couldn’t think of anything better to say.

“I rejected John when he first asked me out. He was a Marine. I didn’t want a soldier. Spent my whole life around hunters, didn’t need more of the macho BS in my world.” Mary finally turned to look at you. “Dean looks at you like he’s trying to figure out how to win you over.”

You cleared your throat. “I… don’t… Dean has a reputation.” You weren’t sure why that was what came out of your mouth.

“I’ve heard.” She confirmed.

“And I’d’ve been fine with that rep, but he was talking about some chick he had a connection with and I’m not the kind of chick guys like Dean cheat on their girlfriends with… I mean… I can’t… Look at me.”

“He doesn’t have a girlfriend.” Mary put her hand on your shoulder. “You should talk to him when this is over.”

You did. After the exorcism, as you were watching Asa, Randy and Elvis being sent home in smoke, you bit your lip and approached him. “Thought I should actually say ‘Goodbye’ this-”

“You should come to breakfast with us.” He interrupted. “We’re takin’ Mom to get some bacon. What do you say?”

You smiled. “Well, does this look like a body that says 'no’ to bacon?”

You sat between Sam and Jody in a diner booth in North Dakota. Dean sat across from you, sharing a large plate of bacon with Mary. “Okay, craziest thing you’ve ever hunted?” Dean asked.

“Uh, probably the transsexual witch who cursed her community college to wake up in the body of someone of the opposite sex so they’d understand how she felt.” You answered, before taking a bite of pancake.

“When you say 'she’…” Sam trailed off. It was a genuinely curious question.

“Born 'Michael’, became 'Michelle’.” 

“What’d you do with her?” Mary asked, drinking down some coffee.

“Well, she hadn’t actually  _hurt_ anyone, just confused the fuck out of 'em for about 16 hours, and she did it out of an overwhelming desire to be understood, so I put her in contact with a Wiccan priestess I know. Last I heard, she was flourishing in her new coven, really embraced the 'Harm ye none’ thing.”

“Wicca is new agey white-” Dean started to explain, but Mary shot him a death glare.

“Gardnerian witchcraft has been around since the Fifties, Dean. 'Wicca’ replaced 'Witch’ because the hippies wanted to beat the negative connotations, wanted everyone to know they weren’t wart-covered crones in candy houses trying to curse everyone and eat little children.”

“Oh, we met her.” Sam spoke up.

“Who?” You and Jody chimed in together.

“The witch from 'Hansel and Gretel’. She was turning crappy adults into shitty kids so that she could eat them. Hansel was in on it.”

You looked between the brothers. “You’re bullshitting.”

“Swear to God. She was one of the last old-timey witches from the Grand Coven. Probably only a small handful of 'em left. Rowena doesn’t count.” Dean answered Sam’s unasked question.

“Who’s Rowena?”

“A tiny Scottish ball of fury and dark magic. Not  _really_ evil, but definitely not one of the good guys.” Dean responded.

“She got kicked out of the Grand Coven for being too ambitious.” Sam followed up.

“Not to mention: you know Crowley? That’s his mom.”

“Crowley, the demon?” You asked.

“Crowley, the douchebag.” Jody snorted derisively.

You laughed. “Okay. Somebody else, weirdest hunt you ever been on?”

“There was a Shifter who spent a year following Paul Simon’s tour. He was killing people who had tickets to the shows so he could take their spot.” Mary said, around a piece of bacon.

“Being the reason Bobby Singer found out Leviathans are allergic to borax was pretty weird.” Jody provided.

“What’s a Leviathan?”

“They almost ate the world, what, five years ago?” Sam asked Dean, who nodded. “They were seriously low-key about it, though. I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of them.”

“You sound like a hipster.” You laughed. “So, what about you two? The legendary Winchester Brothers must have been on some ridiculous hunts.”

“Oh, all kinds. Let’s see, top of my head. Bloody Mary, killer clown ghost, haunted movie set where I got really into my role as PA, we killed Santa, the angels once wiped our memories and gave us new identities working office jobs. There was that time with the dragons. Oh, and when we went back in time and met Samuel Colt and killed a phoenix.” Dean went through the list alternating between excitement and boredom.

“Not to forget everything Gabriel did to us. That was  _all_ ridiculous. Oh, and that alternate universe Balthazar sent us to where our lives were a moderately successful primetime TV show.” Sam added. 

“And Chuck’s books about us.”

“And finding out that Chuck was God.” 

“And  _not_ dying in the dust-up between God and his sister.” Dean turned to Mary with a smile. “And getting Mom back as reward for mediating a reconciliation between them.”

You stared at the table, going through everything you just heard. “Holy shit.” You gasped out, finally. “I… I knew you guys started and stopped the apocalypse a few times, but… holy shit. Back and forth through time, alternate realities, you know God and he has a  _sister_?!”

“You should stick around. We’re bound to blow your mind some more. Crowley and our angel friend, Cas, are working together to find Lucifer, who was most recently seen in the body of has-been glam rocker, Vince Vincente.”

“Oh, holy… Lucifer was in Ladyheart.”

“No, Lucifer was in a dude who was in Ladyheart.” Dean corrected. 

“Wow. Your lives really are legendary.”

“Well, you never know. Stick around. It might rub off on you. Then,  _you_ could be a legend.” Jody nudged you, lightly, as Mary looked down with a smile. The moms were conspiring together.

“Yeah, well… I’m not sure if I could handle that.”

“You don’t know til you try, do you?” Dean smirked at you from across the table.

You took a deep breath. You had one more tool in your tool-bag to try to fend off whatever the hell was happening here: blunt, honest confrontation. “You are putting in a lot of effort here to get your 'I Fucked A Fatty’ badge, aren’t'cha?”

Everyone at the table jerked and the mood immediately fell into a limbo of apprehension as Dean blinked at you. “What?” He said after several long seconds.

“Oh, come on. This is obviously some Playboy Scavenger Hunt, right? Your list of conquests, a 'Fuck-it List’?” You took a bite of your pancake and looked pointedly across the table at him. “I’m a novelty, right? Bang a black chick, bang a latina, a milf, a mature… twins?”

Dean nodded, slowly, and licked his lips. “You think I’ve been flirting with you, trying to get you in bed, so that I can cross 'fat chick’ off my list? Just makin’ sure I got this right.” You took a drink of your coffee and returned his uncomfortable gaze. He nodded again, then leaned forward. “When I was twenty-three, I met a chick named Ursula Green at a bar. She was five-foot-nothing, three hundred pounds, wearing a red halter top and a skirt with a split in the side clean up to her hip. She danced like no one was watching and threw a beer bottle at the redneck who told her to 'take her fat ass home’ and I grabbed two nice big handfuls of her ass when I took her back to her home that night.” 

You swallowed. His green eyes bored into your soul as he continued. “ _She_ crossed 'fat chick’ off my list.” The way he said it was like he couldn’t believe he was saying those words. “Now, I don’t know what you’ve heard about me and I’m sure that I’ve earned a bit of that reputation… but I am  _not_ gonna sit here and let you think that I’ve been talkin’ to you just because you’re a little on the chunky side and that makes you a novelty. I don’t know what kinda men you generally let into your life, y/n, but I don’t play games like that.”

You opened your mouth but no words came out. The other three occupants of the booth table all looked very uncomfortable, so you cleared your throat and stood. You threw a ten dollar bill on the table and walked out of the diner. 

“Where the hell are you going?” 

“I’m going home, Dean.” You grabbed the handle of your driver’s side door and pulled your key.

“Yeah, I got eyes, y/n.” He growled, putting a hand on your car door to keep you from opening it. “Why?”

You turned to him, exasperated. “Because I don’t know what to do!” You shouted, pulling away from your door and leaned against the backseat window. 

“I’ve never had a man want me for anything more than a single-night novelty fuck, or worse a pity fuck, Dean, and I don’t know what to do about a man like you wanting-”

“What do you mean, 'a man like me’?” Dean interrupted.

“A preposterously handsome biblical hero who shouldn’t even  _look_ at a woman like me.”

“What do you mean 'a woman like you’?” Dean shook his head. “Look, y/n, more than what I saw from you last year and-and what I saw from you with Jael last night, I have asked about you. Every hunter I’ve talked to since Spirit Lake has a story about you, some way that you’ve helped them in the past.” You opened your mouth to argue that you weren’t anything special and you’d always just done what any hunter would do, but Dean stepped closer to you and you were suddenly struck with how tall the man was. “You think outside the box, you put others first, you are the epitome of selfless and goddamn it, you’re gorgeous.” 

You looked down. “That’s not true…”

“Stop acting like you don’t see it.” Dean demanded.

For some reason you needed to resist him. “See what? I’ve got mirrors in my house, Winchester. I see-” 

“You obviously don’t see. You don’t see what I see.” 

“Are you kidding me?! You really expect me to believe that you met me, spent two days with me, and I-I somehow impressed you enough that you’ve spent the last year with me on your mind? I’m not an idiot!”

“Yeah, not an idiot but you sure are blind.” Dean took another step closer to you, looking down at you with a confused annoyance. “Fuck, y/n. Why the hell won’t you-”

“Because it’s too good to be true!” You exclaimed, pushing off from the side of your car and standing up to him, ignoring that his height was so intimidating. “Good things don’t happen to me, Dean, they never have. So when I have a stunningly handsome man telling me I’m gorgeous, it sets off my bullshit alarm.”

“Good things don’t happen to you because you run away as soon as they start!” Dean insisted. “You think those extra pounds around your middle are your defining characteristic, but they aren’t. That weight is nothing and you need to stop focusing so much on it. I didn’t even clock you as fat until you started that shit inside. This isn’t bullshit, y/n. I leave my lies for when I’m on a hunt.”

You bit your lip and looked up into his stunning green eyes. “Dean, I-”

His face softened. “I’m not trying to get you to jump in bed with me, y/n.” He reached out and brushed a stray hair out of your face. His hand rested against your ear and his fingers twirled your hair. “But don’t run. Stay. Let the good things happen… in their own time.”

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and presented it to him. “Put your number in. I’ll text you.”

“You’re still gonna leave?” He asked, disappointed, as he took a step back and took the phone out of your hand.

“I’ve got a hunt in Tennessee. Only reason I’m not on it already was for Asa." You answered. "But… I’m interested in… letting the good thing…  _this_ good thing… happen.”

“The cautious approach. I’m all right with that.” He said, tapping his thumbs against the screen of your cell phone. “I just texted myself so that I have your number, too. A warning: I drunk text.” He smiled as he handed your phone back.

“Okay. As long as you don’t send pictures I haven’t requested… I’m okay with that.” 

“There gonna be pictures you  _do_ request?” 

You chuckled, turning your forgotten key in the driver’s door. “Maybe, Winchester.” 

“Can I request pictures?” He asked, as you got into your car. 

“Not yet.” You smiled as you turned your engine over and headed out. 


	3. Missing

That day in Manitoba started a three week-long texting relationship with the eldest Winchester, which began with a simple ’ **How’s your hunt going?** ’ and slowly evolved to sexts and pictures… and then just stopped. You called and it went to voicemail every time. As the days of silence went by, you went through a cycle of angry, betrayed and worried.

“I  _know_ you’re retired, Garth. I’m not calling you into a hunt!” You were in the worried part of the cycle and you had started calling every hunter you knew that knew the Winchesters. “I need to know if you’ve heard from Dean.”

“I didn’t know you even knew Sam and Dean.” Garth mused on the other end of the phone.

“Yeah, for a little while now, okay, and I’ve been trying to get a hold of either of them for weeks and neither are answering their phones.”

“Oh, that happens sometimes. They get into-”

“So, that’s a ‘no’, Garth?”

“No. Sorry, y/n. I haven’t heard from them in a while.”

“Great. Do you have, uh, Jody Mills’ number?”

“Yeah. You got a pen?”

Your conversation with Sheriff Mills had gone the same way, but ended with you being given Mary Winchester’s number. “Hello?”

“Hi, uh, Mary? It’s y/n.”

“Oh. Hey.”

“I’m trying to get in contact with Dean. Have you heard from him?”

There was a moment of silence followed by, “Castiel didn’t call you?”

You swallowed, nervously. “Call me about what?”

She sighed, sending static through the phone. “I think it’d be better coming from Castiel.”

“Mary, please. I have spent the last month thinking I did something wrong or Dean was killed or that he just decided he didn’t want to waste his time with me! Don’t make me wait for the fucking angel!” You exclaimed.

“Y/n… you didn’t do anything wrong and they aren’t dead… but they  _are_ in trouble and we… Castiel and I haven’t been able to help them.”

“What trouble?” Your voice barely came out.

“You remember how Lucifer was in Vince Vincente?”

“Yes.”

“He ended up in President Rooney.”

“What?”

“They were arrested after getting Lucifer out of him and black-bagged, sent to some… off-books black site that we can’t find. That was… five weeks ago.”

Her words hit you with enough force to knock the wind out of you. “How do you know they’re still alive? Assault on the president, that’s gotta be-”

“Castiel says they are, so I have to believe him.”

You swallowed, fighting back tears. “Okay. Thank you… for telling me… Mary.”

“The boys will be okay. I know they will.”

“Sure.” You lost the fight with the tears as you hung up. You went to sleep that night thinking you might have just lost the most amazing man in the world and you never gave him the fair shake he deserved, that you’d been so wrapped in your self-deprecating bullshit that you had lost the opportunity of a lifetime.

You threw yourself into a hunt, immediately. It didn’t matter that it might be an entire nest of vampires and you were but a single hunter, you went to Lancaster, Missouri, anyway. You were met with confusion and a bit of anger from the townsfolk. Another 'agent’ had been through the town, asking questions, before disappearing on the heels of the the fifth body drop. You easily found the bar that was the overlap between the victims and went to work tracking the monster from a bar stool, which is where you were when Mary Winchester walked in.

“Hey.” You started. “Buy you a beer?”

“Sure.” She sat down next to you and you nodded at the bartender to get another round of beers. “You here for the hunt?”

“Beats sitting around the house, wallowing.”

She nodded. “I’ve always been a 'kill things instead of cry’ kinda woman, too.”

“That’s what happens when you grow up in the Life. You learn to dissociate from pain… all pain.”

“Yeah, Dean told me you were a 'born-and-raised’ hunter, like me.”

“He told  _me_ that you got out… supposedly.” You took a drink of your beer. “Tried to do the normal-boring, raise a litter… but this isn’t something you can just turn off, not when it’s how you were raised, when it’s who you are.”

“True. Even when I was…” She shook her head and raised her bottle to her lips. “You can take a break but you can never stop. Like you said, it’s who we are.”

“Wanna work this together?”

“You’ve already done the legwork, I assume.”

“Yes, ma'am. Beardy dude in the corner is our guy. Was gonna let him lead me back to the nest. Always good to have another machete at the party.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The nest was four vampires strong, but you and Mary took them out in a span of about fifteen minutes, heads rolling off your machete and across the floor like misshapen bowling balls. “Not bad.” She said as the two of you walked out of the old shop they’d settled in. Her phone started ringing as the two of you moved to get into her car. “Castiel? Slow… slow down. What?” Her eyes widened as she sat in the driver’s seat. “Oh, God. I’ll be there.”

She hung up and turned to you, looking through the open window. “Get in. The Boys have escaped. They’re in Colorado. I’m meeting Castiel in Lebanon. Let’s go.”

Mary drove like a bat out of Hell. It was nauseating around the curves, how your insides pulled with the force, but you didn’t mention it. You were glad for her fast driving, it just meant you’d get to see Dean again sooner. It cut a six hour trip from Missouri to Kansas down to two and a half and it was no time before she was pulling into a parking lot in Lebanon and Castiel was walking up to the passenger window.

“You got here quickly.”

“Yep.” Mary responded as Castiel got into the backseat. “What do you think we’re walking into?” Mary asked.

“I don’t know.” Castiel answered, honestly. “We may want more backup. Crowley and Rowena?”

“The King of Hell and his mother: the witch?” Mary scoffed.

“Hope we can do better than that.” You insisted as Mary buckled her seat belt.

“I may have an idea.” Castiel said.

“Good. Seat belt on. I drive fast.”

“She’s not lying.” You confirmed.

~~~~

Mary parked her car on Colorado State Route 34 in front of a black luxury car. You recognized the shorter man in the tan coat before you even got out of the car: Mick Davies, British Men of Letters. He’d been trying to get you to talk to him for months. “Miss y/l/n, a pleasure as always.”

“Mr. Davies.”

“This is my associate, Mr. Ketch. I don’t think you’ve met.” He gestured to his companion, a taller man with tattoos on his hands.

“No. Definitely would’ve remembered meeting this one.” Ketch looked you up and down as Mary stomped around the front of the car to glare at Castiel.

“ _This_ is your idea? The people that almost killed my boys, they’re gonna be our backup? Suddenly, the demon and his mommy don’t look so bad.” Mary said, snarkily.

“They helped us with Lucifer.” Castiel defended.

“Lucifer?  _The_ Lucifer?” Mick asked.

“Yes.”

“Wait, so, you’re tellin’ me what happened in Indianapolis was you took on the bleedin’ Devil, himself?” Mick asked.

“Yes.” Castiel answered.

“Did you win?” Ketch asked.

Castiel looked from the Brits to you and Mary. “Yes.”

The Brits looked at each other, obviously impressed. “Bravo.”

“ _But_ Sam and Dean were taken. We think we can get them back, but we need… help.” Mary said.

“So, we’ll help.” Mick said.

“Really?” Mary asked.

“Just like that?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Mrs. Winchester… y/n…” Mick stepped forward. “I came to this country to do one thing: Make friends. But you American hunters, you’re… you’re a different breed than our sort. You’re surly, suspicious. You don’t play well with others.” Mick started.

“Well, that  _is_ accurate.” Castiel commented. You and Mary gave the angel almost identical bitch faces.

“You don’t trust people you don’t know, even when they come bearing gifts. Now, I can’t help that, but I can help you. And if word were to get out that we did our part to save Same and Dean Winchester, well, that’s just good business, innit? And who knows? When all this is over, we might even be friends.” Mick turned his gaze to you. “Maybe you’ll let me buy you that dinner, finally.”

“What’s the saying about Brits bearing gifts?” You responded, with a sarcastic smile.

“That’s  _Greeks_ bearing gifts.” Ketch corrected.

“Yeah, but the Greeks left the gift for the gods and the Trojans stole it, whereas the British Empire had a habit of rolling across nations like  _they_ were God’s gift, stealing resources and killing people. My way makes more sense.”

The two men blinked at you as Mary leaned against the hood of her car. “We think Sam and Dean were being held somewhere in the Rocky Mountain National Forest.”

“Site 94? It’s a government facility, off-books. Shadow ops. One of those places that officially doesn’t exist.” Ketch said.

“Then how do you know about it?” Mary asked.

“We gather information. It’s our job.” Mick said.

“They told us to meet them off State Route 34.” Cas tried to help.

“Which is a fairly long stretch of road and we don’t know where, exactly, they’re comin’ up for air.” You said.

“I’ll get our techs to put a satellite over the area.” Mick offered.

“You can do that?” You and Mary asked.

“And so much more.”

“Do you have any idea what sort of trouble we’re walking into?” Ketch asked Castiel.

“No.”

Ketch smiled. “Oh, good. I do like a surprise.”

It didn’t take long for Mick to tell you that the satellite had picked up the brothers in a gunfight with some paramilitary guys in a small cabin and the five of you figured out the best area between the cabin and Route 34 to wait for them as the sun dipped lower and lower. The sound of them stomping through the underbrush turned your attention as they came crashing into the small clearing.

“Sam, Dean.” Cas said, relieved.

Both brothers breathed the angel’s name and Sam wrapped Cas in a hug. “Mom.” Sam breathed as his eyes fell on Mary. He broke away from Castiel and enveloped his mother in a hug.

Dean hugged the angel, next, watching as his brother attacked their mom with love. “Hey, buddy.” Dean patted his shoulder and moved to hug Mary.

You tucked your hair behind your ears as they greeted each other with love. You almost felt like you didn’t need to be there, that you  _shouldn’t_ be there, like this was a moment for family and you should’ve stayed at the car with the British Men of Letters. You were contemplating sinking backward into the trees, circling back around to the Brits’ Bentley and Mary’s car, when Dean pulled away from Mary and pulled you to him.

He was clearly exhausted, and he smelled like sweat, gunpowder and mud, but he held you to his chest like he never wanted to let you go and it was everything your heart needed in that moment. “I’m so happy you’re here, y/n. So glad Cas called you.”

“Actually, Dean, I didn’t have y/n’s number.”

“I happened to be with y/n when Castiel called me.” Mary said, gesturing through the woods toward where the car was parked. Dean didn’t want to let you go, you could tell, but he pulled out of the embrace and took your hand in his as you started toward the road. “This girl can hunt.”

“Mom, how did y'all even find us?” Sam asked, as the group emerged from the wood line.

“They helped.” She nodded at Mick and Ketch, leaning against the hood of their car.

“Hello, lads.” Mick greeted.

“They have a thermal imaging satellite that saw you… from space.” Cas’ words were stilted, like he wasn’t sure he was saying the right thing, and Sam and Dean both looked confused.

“Well, we don’t  _have_ one, just borrowed it for a bit. Friends in all the right places.” Mick corrected.

“Well, I guess this is where we’re supposed to say 'thank you’.” Dean stiffened and you squeezed his hand.

“No need. Happy to be of service.” Mick said.

“Again.” Ketch stressed.

“Okay, then. We should get.” Sam said, gesturing at the trees. “The people we left, they’ll call for backup any second.”

“Uh, you left survivors?” Ketch asked.

“Of course they did.” You answered, immediately, as Sam squinted at Ketch and nodded.

“They were soldiers, just doin’ what they were told.” Dean responded, like he was talking to a child.

“Still… a bit unprofessional.” Ketch continued.

“What profession do you think you’re in, Mr. Ketch?” You asked, pulling away from Dean’s side and stepping closer to the Bentley. “We’re good people. Good people don’t kill unless they  _have_ to. Especially other  _people_.”

“We’ll handle it. Let’s get.” Sam said as Dean pulled your arm until you were back to his side and the two of you headed for the back seat of the car.

Dean pulled you into his lap as Mary pulled off and headed North. “Shoulda called you before we went up against Lucifer… how long were you in the dark?” He whispered. He hugged you to him, running one of his hands down your back and sweeping the other up and down your thigh.

“I got a hold of Mary a week ago.”

“Shit, y/n. I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d want to help if you knew we were going up against-”

“Satan? Of course I would’ve.” You turned to look at him better. “You offer me a chance at epic status and then you go against Lucifer and you freeze me out?”

“I couldn’t even imagine sending you into a room with Lucifer. The thought of what he could have done to you… I tried to call, but I couldn’t.” He shook his head.

“Well, I suppose not hearing from you, not knowing what the hell happened…” You smiled softly and ran your thumb across his cheek to rub away a smudge of dirt. “That’s not nearly as bad as being murdered by Lucifer or locked up in Site 94.”

“God, you’re understanding.” He said under his breath, before twisting your body on his lap so that you were straddling him, facing him. He cupped your chin between his hands and looked deeply into your eyes. “I hope you’re still this understanding at midnight.”

“What does that mean?” You and Castiel asked, instantly worried.

Dean shook his head, looking from your face to the clock on the GPS and back. “Look, what I need you to know right now, y/n, is that I thought about you every day I was in there. I dreamed of your face, your smile. Those pictures you sent me by your pool…” He smiled, softly, tears brimming around his lashes. “I need you to know that… you’re my good thing, too.”

“Dean, what-”

He didn’t answer, pulling your head forward to lock his lips against yours. There was no tongue, no heat, in the kiss. It was every bit of sweetness and care that you’d imagined your first kiss with him might carry, but there was an undercurrent of loss and sadness, like it might be the last kiss, as well. He didn’t pull away until the radio spontaneously turned on, sending static through the car as the engine died. “It’s time.” Sam said from the front seat as the car rolled to a stop on a small bridge over Timber Creek.

You all got out of the car and stepped around the car. “What’s happening?” Mary asked. Your eyes were stuck on Dean’s face.

“Yeah, Dean.” A voice called from the middle of the bridge. You turned to see a beautiful woman, wearing a brown leather jacket and a black t-shirt, arms crossed over her chest. “Sup?”

“Billie?” Mary asked.

“Who?” You immediately snapped.

“The reaper?” Cas’ question answered your own.

“I don’t understand.” Mary turned to look at her boys.

“Mom… that place… there was only one way we were getting out of there, and that wasn’t breathing.” Dean responded. You shook your head. You didn’t understand. Well, you  _did_ , but you didn’t want to. “So I made a call.”

“Dean talked with her and then Billie came to see me. And we made a deal. We’d get to die and come back one more time, but in exchange…” Sam started. He was having a hard time looking at Mary and Castiel.

“Come midnight, a Winchester goes bye-bye. Like, permanently.” The reaper said, smugly, as Mary stepped right in front of her sons. You sat against the hood of the car, hand over your mouth. No wonder Dean had kissed you like that. “And that is something I’ve been looking forward to for a long time.”

“Why would you-”

Dean cut his mother off. “We were already dead. Being locked in that cell with nothing… I’ve been to Hell. This was worse.”

“At least this way, one of us gets to keep fighting.” Sam reasoned.

“You don’t have to do this.” You flinched at the harshness of the angel’s voice.

“Yeah, they do. We made a pact, bound in blood. You break that, there’s consequences on a cosmic scale. So, who’s it gonna be?”

Dean was about to volunteer. If the kiss hadn’t tipped you off, the way he looked at Sam would have, but before he could do what he was planning, Mary turned to face the reaper, pulling her gun from her waistband. “Me.”

“Mom.” Dean said. “Mom.”

“No.” Sam said. “No.”

Billie flung the brothers backward. “You said, come midnight a Winchester dies? I’m a Winchester.” Mary explained.

“Works for me.” Billie responded.

Mary cocked her gun and pressed the barrel to her temple as you squeezed your eyes shut and the brothers shouted at her to stop. “I love you.” She sniffled.

The sound of piercing flesh drove you to open your eyes to the vision of Billie with an angel blade through her chest, just in time for the blinding light of her dying to make you squeeze them shut again. Castiel looked fairly shocked that he’d killed Billie, too, as Sam and Dean got to their feet. “Cas, what have you done?” Dean asked, looking at the body.

“What had to be done. You know this world, this sad, doomed little world, it needs you. It needs every last Winchester it can get, and I will not let you die. I won’t let  _any_ of you die. And I won’t let you sacrifice yourselves. You mean too much to me, to everything.” You were certain you’d never seen an angel cry, but Castiel was right there on the edge of it. “Yeah, you made a deal. You made a stupid deal and I broke it. You’re welcome.”

There was a long moment of silence before you pushed away from the car and launched yourself at Dean. The slap you administered to his dirty cheek made your right hand hurt. “You absolute-” You let your left hand swing. “-idiot! We could have found you! You didn’t have to do this!” You went for another slap with your right hand, but Dean caught it.

“Ow.” Dean said, pointedly, moving his jaw. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?! You were gonna kill yourself!”

“We hadn’t decided which of us-” Sam started.

“Dean had! Dean knew exactly which one of you was gonna bite that bullet.” Dean looked down, a confirmation of your theory. “You were going to have us watch you die!”

“Because I had to! And it’s not like it’d be a first, y/n. Everyone here, except  _you_ , has died. Most of us in triplicate.” He dropped your wrist and stepped back. “And when I made that decision, I didn’t know you and Mom were gonna be here. I thought it was just gonna be Cas.”

“And that’s better? That you thought only your best friend was gonna have to see it, that’s  _better_?!” You were screeching.

“Yes! I thought Cas would take it better than either of the women in my life! Obviously I was wrong.” Dean argued.

“Don’t say it like that, like he made some hysterical decision based in emotion. He made the  _rational_ decision. He was cool as a cucumber when he decided to save your mom from having to clean up your fucking mess! She was also super calm in her decision. The only one acting like a woman here is  _me_ and that’s because I’m so pissed off I can’t-” You cut yourself off and turned to Mary. “Just drop me in Loveland. I’ll find my own way back to my car.”

“Oh, come on, y/n! You shouldn’t-” Dean started, stepping forward.

“Look, I need a fair amount of time and several bottles of wine to process what just happened, so you’re gonna get in the back seat with brother and the angel and you’re gonna keep your mouth shut.” You demanded.

Dean sneered as he got in the back seat, allowing the smaller-framed Castiel take the middle as you got into the front seat. You’d been driving in silence a few minutes when Mary looked at you. “You know, I could get you back to Missouri, y/n. It wouldn’t be-”

“Loveland’s fine.” You said, biting your thumbnail.

Dean made a huffy, displeased sound, but you ignored it. You recognized that sacrifice wasn’t a question for the Winchesters. If it saved the other, or saved the world, the brothers would die for it. Seems they got that from Mary.

You knew sacrifice was a Winchester staple, but you hadn’t expected to have to deal with it, yet. To have to confront the reality that Dean was always going to throw himself on a sword at a moment’s notice to save Sam or the world… you weren’t sure you were okay with that.


	4. A Break

Mary got you to Loveland, Colorado in 40 minutes and, once again, you were glad for her speedy driving habits.

You didn't say 'goodbye' and a part of you thought that was a bit petty, but you just had to get out of there. You hopped a Greyhound out of Loveland and drove home from Lancaster to your little 2 bedroom house in Tacoma, Washington and there you stayed. You didn't look for another hunt. You spent your time cleaning every weapon you owned, and then you deep cleaned your home. You cleaned and you contemplated starting a vegetable garden and you did laps in your pool and you ignored Dean's texts.

You were lying on the deck next to your pool, sunbathing in the privacy of your own backyard, when you heard footsteps on your grass. You reached for the throwing knife under your towel and waited. "I figure two weeks of radio silence is more than enough punishment for leaving you out of the loop about Lucifer." Dean's voice called across the back yard.

You stood and wrapped the towel around your waist, covering the majority of the skin your bikini didn't cover. "You're an imbecile if you think that is why I've been ignoring your texts." You twirled the knife between your fingers and avoided looking directly at him. "How'd you find me?"

"Property tax records. Which you actually pay." He gestured back toward your house. "So you own this little slice of normal, free and clear, huh?"

"Yup. Won it in a card game." You balanced the knife on the tip of your finger.

"Really? That happens in real life? Thought that was just in movies and shit."

"Happened to me. He really thought his four Kings were gonna win, so he bet the deed. I put up the locket Alexander Hamilton bought Maria Reynolds when he found out she was pregnant. Aces were high and, by the time I got done with the deck, I had four of them." 

"You cheated."

"Not that he could prove." You shrugged, palming the knife. "And it's not like I was depriving the man of shelter. This was the smallest of his  _three_ houses." 

"So, can we talk?"

"I don't know, Dean." 

"Come on, y/n. Why are you avoiding my texts?"

You shook your head. "Look, I don't know how talking is gonna help this." 

"Help what?"

You sighed, walking away toward your house. "Look, I don't have people, Dean. I haven't had family since Dad started training me at fourteen, even  _he_ died when I was nineteen." You could hear his boots crunching on your grass as you pulled open the screen door on your back porch and stepped into your laundry room. "I don't have friends, just a laundry list of associates who I've already resigned to burning one day." He pulled the screen door closed behind him as you tossed your knife at a dartboard and kept walking into the kitchen.

"I've never had someone in my life who I couldn't stand to lose. Never. But back on that bridge, when I realized that you were going to martyr yourself..." You shook your head, pulling a bottle of wine out of your fridge. "You're always gonna make that choice and one day it's gonna be permanent and I have spent the last 2 weeks contemplating whether or not my family has had the right idea about cutting ties as fast as possible."

You poured yourself a tall glass of wine and took several deep gulps. "I haven't decided whether-"

"You're saying that you've been ignoring me because you're in love with me?" You scoffed. Of course Dean dumbed down two weeks of soul-searching and indecision to a single sentence. "Y/n, you can't just cut people off because eventually they're gonna die."

"Not-" You finally turned to him, fully, looking up into his brilliant green eyes. "My mother is going to 'eventually die', Dean. My sisters are going to 'eventually die'. _You_ are going to sacrifice yourself for the greater good or just the good of your family and I don't know if I can-"

"Maybe I want you to be a part of my family, ever think of that?" 

"Don't be ridic-" You started but Dean pulled the wine glass out of your hand, placing it on the counter behind you before wrapping his hands around your upper arms and pulling you to him. This kiss was completely different than the first one you shared. His lips moved against yours, teeth tugging lightly at your bottom lip. You gasped into his mouth and his tongue took the opportunity to caress yours. When he pulled back, you were breathing heavily and you were certain your face was pink.

"I have and will sacrifice myself for Sam and Mom and Cas and the world. I think you'd put yourself in the same spot, y/n. We're hunters. We put our lives on the line for the common good every time we go on a job." He smiled softly at you. "My people, they'd all make the same call, y/n. Hell, every fucked up thing Cas has ever pulled, he did because he thought it was the right thing to do to save me and Sam pain or loss or... I don't have a lot of people, but..." 

He took a deep breath and chuckled. "I have  _lost_ more loved ones than I ever expected to gain... and I think I'm better for having had them, not worse. You need people, y/n, people you love. People who love you. You don't have a family and that's pretty much all I've got to offer you: the most badass family you could ask for."

You looked down at your feet. "I don't know how to-"

"You gotta let go, y/n. You gotta let go of everything holding you back, everything making you wanna stay distant, let it go." He tucked his fingers under your chin and forced you to look into his eyes. "Let this happen. Let this work."

You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Dean reached down and pulled the towel from your waist, letting it fall to your feet as his hands started to roam across your skin. "Dean." You gasped into his mouth as his fingers tangled in the tie at the back of your top and your bikini top came off. His hands then moved to the back of your thighs and he lifted you, almost too easily, to sit on the counter next to your sink as he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples. Your hands went his hair, holding him against you as your eyes closed and your head leaned back against the cupboard door in bliss.

His left hand came up and massaged your other breast. "You have the most amazing breasts." He said, removing his mouth from your nipple and stepping back to admire them. Your immediate reaction was to try to cover yourself with your arms, but Dean reached forward and slapped your hands away. "Don't do that."

"I just-" You started to explain, but he just shook his head.

"I know  _why_. Don't do it. Gonna make me tie you up if you keep that shit up and I don't wanna get into the whips and chains until we've gone vanilla a few times." 

You blushed and looked down. "Dean."

"Hey. You're gorgeous. The only thing I want covering your body..." He smirked and caught your eyes. "...is mine."

"You're so cheesy." You scoffed and shook your head as you reached out and grasped the edge of his flannel shirt, pushing it down his arms. 

"You love it." He responded, stepping out of your reach and pulling his shirts off over his head.

"I do." You jumped down from the counter and padded toward your bedroom, slipping your bikini bottoms off as you walked through your bedroom door.

Dean was right behind you, kicking his boots off before lightly tackling you to your bed. You giggled as he climbed over you, looking down into your eyes. "You're so fucking gorgeous."

"Thank you." You smiled up at him. "Now, are you gonna take those pants off, or not?"

"You eager, baby?" He smirked before kissing his way down your neck.

You held back a moan as his hands slid down your skin, manipulating your body with expert precision. "I- Dea- I, _fuck_..." You shuddered as the fingertips of his left hand brushed across your mound.

"I jacked off every day I was in lock-up, thinkin' 'bout making you scream my name." He whispered before taking your earlobe between his teeth and sliding his middle finger along your slit to tease your entrance. "Can't believe how wet you are. Barely touched you."

"Fuck, Dean." You whined. "Please."

"You sound so pretty whining for something to fill you up." His finger slid into your pussy with no resistance around him. "How long's it been since someone fucked you senseless?"

"Never." You managed to whisper. "Got too much sense."

"I'm taking that as a challenge, sweetheart." Dean curled his finger up and dragged it out, paying close attention to where his fingertip ran into the spongy area that made you clench your muscles. "I'm gonna be the first, princess, and last, to fuck you 'til you can't think."

"If anyone could, it'd be the great Dean Winchester."

He pulled back, smirking at you before licking his lips and slipping down the bed. "You see, talking? That means you're still thinking. Gotta fix that." He settled himself between your thighs, rubbing his hands along them lovingly before draping them over his shoulders and slowly lowering his head until his mouth was hovering just an inch above your lower lips. "Now, _that_ is a pretty pussy if ever I saw one."

"And you've seen many." You pulled yourself up on your elbows to look down at him.

"You ruined my line." He licked his lips again. "I was gonna ask if it tastes as good as it looks."

"Cheese." You accused.

He chuckled. "Guilty." He shrugged, making your thighs jump slightly, before he started to kiss his way down your pussy lips before licking a thin stripe up one lip and down the other. 

It was teasing. 

It was terrible. 

It was _amazing_.

You were gasping, trying to get him to put his mouth where you wanted it, but he kept slapping your hands away until you gave up, hands grabbing your breasts, instead. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, just two of them, but he wielded them with such precision that you were shuddering, teetering on the edge by the time he wrapped his lips around your clit. Stars exploded in your eyes and you screamed out your pleasure. Dean chuckled and crawled up your body. "Too easy."

"You shouldn't call a girl 'easy', Dean." 

"And you shouldn't be talking. Woman, I know that was a mind-blowing orgasm you just had and somehow-"

You shrugged. "Too much sense."

"All right. Guess I'm just gonna have to fuck your brains out, then. It's the only option." He rolled off the bed and quickly pulled his pants and boxers off, jumping back onto the bed and settling between your legs. He smiled, seeing your eyes glued to his hard cock, resting against your comforter. "Oh, _yeah_. You like it?"

"You're... it's like... is the..."

He chuckled. "Haven't even put it in you, yet and you already aren't making sense." He wrapped his hand around his dick and rubbed the head of it against your clit. Your mouth hung open and you gasped. 

"Dean... go slow." You managed as he lined up with your entrance.

"Of course, baby." He nodded, slowly rolling his hips to inch his cock into you. "Been a while, huh?"

"Uh, when was the Apocalypse?" You weren't even joking.

" _Really_?" Dean's eyes widened as he stopped pushing, catching your eyes.

"Really. It was the end of the world. I let myself be..." ' _used_ '. That was the word you wanted to say, but you didn't. 

"Anyone I know?" 

"You never met him." You covered.

"Asa was a li'l old for you, don't you think?" Dean smirked as he said it and gave a little love bite to your jawline to prove he wasn't judging you.

"Yeah, he was, and I was too fa-"

"Shut the fuck up. You're gorgeous. Get me? You're gorgeous, and if Mr. Wendigo only wanted a one-and-done, that's because he was afraid of more. You weren't the problem."

"How the fuck are you _real_?"

Dean chuckled as he finished pushing into you. "Baby, I'm just your dream come true."

It just felt... right for him to be fully seated in you. "Definitely."

"Can I move? Can I- 'cause I think if I don't move soon, I'm gonna explode."

You chuckled, breathy, almost a scoff. "Yeah. Go. Please."

Dean leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. He started with simple rolls of his hips, timed with his tongue rolling against yours. There was no doubt that Dean Winchester was going to fuck you senseless. You already felt like your brain was trying to shut down, your body was already rolling against Dean's of its own accord. 

He dropped his head to the crook of your neck with a grunt, left hand going to the outside of your thigh to knead it. " _Fuck_. That's so good, baby." He kissed across your neck and shoulder as he started to pick up his speed. There were no words. As you wrapped your legs around him to help meet his every thrust, you couldn't think anything coherent. Just the ever-present need of more. As Dean shifted his angle, pulling your legs away from his waist and hooking his arms under your knees, looking down to watch his cock disappear into your cunt with ever-faster and harder strokes, he made certain to hit your g-spot every time and you squeezed your eyes shut against the overwhelming sensations. "No, no, baby. Look at me." He grunted.

"Dea-, I..."

"Almost there, huh?"

"Yeah." You admitted, panting.

He dropped your right leg and moved to rub his thumb across your clit as your leg fell limp to the bed, which didn't stay limp for long, as your entire body went rigid with your orgasm. Dean fucked you through it, moving to plant both of his hands on the mattress and fuck into you as hard as he could, chasing his own. "Fuck, y/n. So good." He grunted, kissing your neck as his cock twitched inside of you, filling you with cum. 

He looked down into your eyes, both of you panting. "I... Dean, I..."

"Yeah." He nodded, pressing his lips to yours as he pulled out. He dropped to his side next to you and laid his head on your chest. "So... you should come back to the bunker with me." You scoffed and Dean wrapped his arm around your middle. "Think I've lived without you long enough, you know?"

You sighed. "I'll think about it." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It hadn't taken much thought, honestly. You were in love. Dean was in love. Sam was awesome. The bunker seemed amazing. "I'm keeping my house. It's not like I could sell it in this economy, anyway, and it's always good to have-"

"Baby, you can do whatever you want. It's your house. I just want you with me, okay?" Dean said as he helped load several bags of clothes and weapons and personal items into the back of his car. Everything else went into the back of your car. "All right. We're gonna stop in Salt Lake City for the night, finish the trip tomorrow." 

"Call if you need to stop for gas. I know that ol' Chevy probably drinks it like water." You said, kissing him before dropping into the driver's seat of your car. 

You made it to Salt Lake City and got a motel. You were exhausted from the drive, but Dean didn't let you sleep. You were okay with the lack of sleep, but apparently the people in the room next to you weren't. They started beating on the wall and yelling, so Dean made sure to hit the headboard into the wall with every thrust and you picked up the volume. You and Dean won that contest.

The next morning, you went to a diner before getting back on the road. You got there first, took a seat, waited for Dean. He walked in and immediately got the attention of every woman in the diner, including a table near the front of half-drunk/half-hungover college-age girls who started whispering and giggling. Dean walked up to the pie case and bent down, looking at the sweet offerings with his bottom lip between his teeth. He had just stood back up, obviously having made his decision, when a tiny blond from the giggling table bounced over to him. 

"Hi." She said with a smile.

"Hey." Dean gave her a look, then looked back at the area behind the counter, waiting for a server so he could tell them he wanted a pie.

"My name's Shailena. What's yours?"

Dean turned back to her and gave her a small smile. "Dean."

"You just passin' through?"

"Yeah. Headin' home."

She bit her lip. "Well, if you've got a few hours to kill, I'd really like to get to-"

"I'ma stop you there, Shailena. I'm with someone." You couldn't help the cheesy grin you got at the sentence.

The blond's face fell. "Really? But-"

Dean nodded and turned, pointing your way. "Right there."

" _Her_?! But she's so-"

"Amazing, right?" Dean interrupted. He turned back as the server came up. "Can I get this cherry pie wrapped up to-go? I'm at that table over there, and we're probably ready to order by now." Dean winked at the server and started to walk over to you.

"Lucky." Shailena spit out, glaring at you as he sat down.

"Yes, I am." Dean called back to her, reaching across the table to take your hand. "Sorry 'bout that, baby. Had to get us a pie."

"Had to get _you_ a pie, you mean." 

He shrugged. "I mean, you put me through a workout last night. Need to replenish."

"That's what the bacon's for." You joked. He nodded. "You're fuckin' amazing, you know?"

"What?" He turned to follow your gaze to the giggling table, which was now just the whispering table. "Oh, her?"

"Yeah. Her. You barely looked at her."

Dean shrugged. "I'm with you. Besides, that chick... she wouldn't have been able to keep up with me. Not by any stretch of the imagination."

"And are you imagining?" You teased.

"Just you, baby." He winked and kissed your hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You pulled the pie out of the oven and set it on the cooling rack. It finally seemed to be an actual pie instead of a hockey puck of burnt pastry. Now, just to let it cool so that the pectin could solidify and become a pie consistency, and wait for Dean to come home from his trip to visit Jody. 

"What is that smell?! Is that what I think it is?!" Dean called out from the hallway a few hours later. He rushed to the kitchen, where you were sitting with your laptop. His eyes jumped from you to the cooling rack and back. "Did you do that?!"

You stood, nodding. "Yeah. I did. Please ignore the two first tries in the trashcan." Dean wrapped his arms around you.

"What's the occasion? You never _cook_ , let alone _bake_."

"Well, I wanted to, uh, wanted you to have a delicious token of my love to take with you on your next hunt... which Sam found last night."

Dean's eyebrows came together in confusion. "I usually take _you_  as my delicious token of your love. Why aren't you coming with?"

You bit your bottom lip and took a deep breath, looking up into his eyes. "I, um... it's..."

"Baby, what's wrong?" His hand came up to cup your cheek.

You chuckled. "Nothing's wrong. It's just... time for me to take a break from hunting." You said, looking into his eyes and hoping he'd catch your meaning.

"Wh-why are you-" You just kept looking up at him. His eyes widened as he caught on. "Wait." You smiled, brightly. "Are you-"

You pulled the little white stick with the pink cap out of your jacket pocket and presented it to him. "I've got an appointment in Kensington on Monday to confirm, but... there's four more of those things in the bathroom. They've all got two pink lines."

Dean took the pregnancy test in his fingertips and looked down at it with wonder in his eyes. "Holy shit." He breathed out, before he started to laugh. "I'm gonna be a fuckin' _dad_!" He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. " _SAM_! YOU'RE GONNA BE AN UNCLE!!!" He yelled over your head.

Sam appeared in the doorway as Dean dropped to his knees to kiss your belly. "What's... oh, hey." Sam caught on immediately as he noticed the pregnancy test in Dean's hand and the way his brother was pushing your shirt up to caress your belly. "Congratulations, you guys! That's fuckin' great!"

"I gotta call Mom!" Dean said, jumping up and pulling out his cell phone. "Hey, Gramma, you busy?" He smirked as he walked out of the kitchen, completely forgetting the pie. "Yeah. I said... Yeah, I might be a bit early on that name, but in about nine months... _Yeah_!" You heard as he disappeared down the hallway.

You and Sam just smiled at each other. "So... this kid's gonna be, like, a legacy of legends." You said, rubbing at your belly.

"Yeah. Two hunting families, Letters legacy. Kid's gonna have it made." Sam joked. He chuckled. "You okay to stop hunting for... you know, _years_?"

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. "You know what, Sam? Yeah. I think a few years' break would be, you know... a good thing."


End file.
